


Bring Color to My Skies

by CupcakeCait



Category: One Direction (Band), Zayn Malik (Musician)
Genre: Angst, Businessman!Liam, Drug Use, Hooker!Zayn, Liam's got shady motives, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Violence, Zayn has poor coping mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-05-23 10:27:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 20,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6113653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CupcakeCait/pseuds/CupcakeCait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn's a high end hooker, and Liam is his new client.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title and lyrics from Troye Sivan's Happy Little Pill.

                                                                   

 

 _In the crowd alone_  
_And every second passing reminds me I'm not home_  
_Bright lights and city sounds are ringing like a drone_  
_Unknown, unknown_

Zayn squared his shoulders, straightening his hair as he stared into the mirrored wall of the lift. He raised his chin, schooling his features into a mask of indifference, grateful that the bump he'd done in the loo just off the lobby seemed to be doing its job. Energy thrummed through him, buzzing across his skin and sharpening his senses. All too soon he arrived on his floor, a quick glance at his phone reminding him of where he needed to head next. 

He shook his head to vanquish the lingering reluctance he felt, purposefully forcing his movements to appear strong and confident and he walked down the brightly lit hallway. His lifted one side of his mouth into a lazy smirk as he raised his fist to knock on the door, but inside he felt the same rush of nerves that he always did.

This was the part of every date that he hated the most. The seconds before the moment of truth, when he had no idea who was standing on the other side of the door, or what they would want from him. More than once he'd begged Ana to get more information when she arranged the dates; to find out how old the john was, and whether they wanted Zayn on his hands and knees or tied to the bed; for him to be sweet and charming or rough and cocky. 

But apparently it wasn't her place to ask such things up front, just as it wasn't Zayn's place to know what type of situation he was walking into. It was unsettling, never knowing if they'd want to chat him up a bit, pretending like it was a real date, or if they'd prefer to get straight to business, forcing Zayn to play into whatever fantasy they'd been harboring in the months it took for them to build up the courage to call the number on the little black card they'd been handed, their boss or roommate from uni or favorite bartender promising a night of discreet fun with no consequences.

Because that was what people wanted Zayn for. What they used him for; hours of pleasure without any repercussions on their daily lives; the only lasting effect the memories they'd use to get off for years to come while their unsuspecting wives slept next to them. And Zayn used them right back, soaking up their praise and lust and attention, spending their money and fucking away their hours as he pleased.

Zayn rapped on the door, three hard knocks whose echos were muffled by the lush carpet under his feet and the thick brocade wallpaper lining the walls. Zayn only met his clients at the best hotels in London, but he had to admit that this one was even nicer than most. He stood up a little straighter, fully aware of how beneficial another rich regular would be to his bank account as he bounced on the balls of his feet.

He'd just raised his hand to knock again when the door finally swung open. A man close to his own age filled the doorway, his shoulders broad beneath his crisp, black business suit. He wasn't much bigger than Zayn, but his presence made him seem larger than he was, his gaze firm and unforgiving as he looked Zayn up and down disinterestedly, taking in his black trousers and halfway unbuttoned white shirt, the tattoos lining his chest and the rings circling his fingers, his expression never changing.

Zayn couldn't tell if the man liked what he saw, but he knew that he did. The stranger before him was fit as fuck, his skin tan and his jaw sharp. Zayn's smirk turned into a genuine grin, the evening already looking up.

"I'm Zayn," he said, holding out a hand with an easy smile.

The man looked at the hand stretched between them for a moment before taking it in his own, his grip strong. "Liam," he said curtly, releasing Zayn's hand as soon as the word had passed his lips. He stepped back, allowing Zayn to enter. The room was huge, a wall of windows looking out over the heart of London, and Zayn could just make out Big Ben in the distance.

He let out a low whistle, walking towards the window to get a better look at the darkening sky. Dusk was rapidly falling, which meant that the city was just starting to come alive. "Gorgeous, innit?" he murmured, rocking back on his heels. Liam didn't answer him, and Zayn turned around to find him still watching him intently.

"I want you on the bed," Liam told him with no preamble.

Straight to business then.

Zayn nodded to show Liam that that was what he wanted too, his hands already finding the buttons on his shirt, undoing them one by one without taking his eyes off of Liam. Liam watched him right back, his stare steady and unwavering. He held himself very still, yet somehow managed to look completely relaxed, leaving Zayn in no doubt of who would be in charge tonight.

He let his shirt fall open once it was unbuttoned, then turned his back to Liam, shrugging out of it and letting it drop to the floor. He looked over his shoulder at him, expecting to see him right behind him, or maybe even reaching out to touch him. But instead he was already sitting down, on a love seat Zayn had overlooked before. It had been pulled away from the wall and positioned about a meter in front of the foot of the bed, and Liam was watching him from it, his arm slung casually over the back of it as he reached his other hand towards a tumbler on the side table. He cocked his head to the side, swilling the liquor in his glass but not taking a drink.

"You sure you don't want to join me over here?" Zayn asked coyly as he sat down on the bed, glancing down at the bedspread as he rubbed slow circles into the pattern, knowing how good he looked with his eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. He looked up from beneath them to see Liam's jaw twitch, his eyes hard as he stared at Zayn and said nothing.

Zayn felt a frisson of fear run through him, egged on by the coke and the dark look in Liam's eyes. He looked...dangerous. Predatory almost, and with a tickle of excitement Zayn wondered what was in store for him for the rest of the evening.

"Get yourself off," Liam ordered, his voice low enough that Zayn had to strain to hear him.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked, not because he was trying to question the client's wishes, but because he was genuinely surprised by the request.

"I said," he started slowly, "I want you to get yourself off."

Zayn smiled to himself. He knew he could do this, confident that he'd have Liam begging him to ride him or suck him off in no time. He rose to his feet, kicking off his shoes as he watched Liam settle further back in his seat, his legs stretched out in front of him, knees spread.

Zayn moved his hands to his pants next, realizing with a start that he was already hard, Liam's forceful tone and unyielding gaze causing all of his blood to flow towards his center. He took his time pulling his zipper down, noting the way Liam's eyes followed the movement. He let his trousers fall to the floor, stepping out of them and pulling off his socks before standing up straight and facing Liam head on as he cupped himself over his black boxer briefs. 

Liam's voice filled the quiet room, more booming than before. "Take them off."

"Yeah," Zayn breathed, trying not to show how affected he was. "Anything you want, Liam," he assured him, hooking his thumbs under the waistband and pushing them down. He wrapped a hand around himself immediately, his cock already so hot and hard against his palm.

"On the bed. Now."

Zayn knew that he needed to obey the order, though he was more inclined to head in the opposite direction. Liam looked so fucking good sitting like that, like he was a king on his throne surveying his castle, and Zayn wanted nothing more than to knock the drink out of his hand so that he could climb onto his lap and press against him. He knew that Liam had to be as hard as he was, and he wanted to feel him straining in his pants, to rock against him and make him moan.

But if Liam wanted him on the bed, he'd get on the bed. He sat down, scooting backwards until his back was against the headboard. He planted his feet on the comforter and split his knees, running his hands up and down his thighs. He knew exactly what Liam wanted, but he wanted to hear him beg for it. His cock lay against his stomach, arching up and leaking onto his abs as he teased himself, tweaking his nipples as he waited for Liam's next command.

But Liam was apparently a patient man - far more so than Zayn - content to watch from a distance as Zayn grew harder and harder under his steady gaze, until he couldn't resist sliding a hand between his legs, ghosting his fingers over his length as he watched Liam take a sip of his drink, the tip of his cock weeping when he noticed the tattoo darkening the back of Liam's hand for the first time.

He wondered what Liam looked like beneath that fancy suit. Whether his skin would be tan and unmarred, or if that tat was just the tip of the iceberg; a wild, colorful life hidden underneath a stiff facade. He could tell that Liam was fit, but he wanted to know how firm his muscles were, and if they'd flex under his fingers as he ran his hands along Liam's skin, tracing the lines of his body. 

Zayn wanted to know how hard it would be to make Liam shiver, or sweat, or shake. To make him scream Zayn's name. It usually wasn't that difficult to make a client come undone, most of them so worked up by the time Zayn got to the door that all it took was a few expect flicks of his tongue or rolls of his hips before they were coming and swearing that he was the best they'd ever had. By the end of the second round Zayn usually had them on their knees for him, the tables turned as Zayn opened them up to a whole new world.

Somehow he didn't think it would be so easy with Liam. No, he didn't seem like the closet cases he usually got stuck with, every inch of him dripping with control and confidence, telling Zayn that there was nothing that he hadn't seen, or done. It made Zayn even harder, the desire to make Liam want him more than he'd ever wanted anyone else.

The lube Zayn had brought with him lay forgotten in his pocket, but he barely needed it, another pearl of precome leaking from his slit with every stroke. He moved his hand as slowly as he could manage as he felt need begin to build inside him, tamping down the impulse to increase his pace and his pleasure in favor of making it look good for Liam.

"You like this?" he asked him, swirling his thumb over the head of his cock, causing his breath to hitch. He moved his other hand up to his hair, threading his fingers through his quiff and tugging, his head falling back against the headboard as he imagined Liam doing the same to him. "Like watching me touch myself like this?"

Liam didn't answer, but Zayn swore his saw his grip tighten on his glass, and it made him squeeze his cock a little tighter, his strokes speeding up infinitesimally. 

Jerking off like this - making it last, with Liam's eyes on him - felt fucking incredible. It had been a long time since Zayn had taken this much time to make himself come, instead of settling for a hurried wank in the shower, fucking into his fist hard and fast, and now he felt like he didn't want this to ever end, especially not with the way Liam was watching him. He felt like he couldn't stop, not until he made Liam feel as out of control as he did, his balls already starting to tighten as the promise of his orgasm trembled under his skin. But Liam, he still looked mostly unaffected, though he hadn't taken his eyes off of Zayn, not even for a second, and Zayn was fairly certain that his cheeks were a bit pinker than they'd been when he'd arrived, his eyes darker.

But he wanted to push him harder. To make Liam want him so much that he couldn't help but take him.

He forced his hand to slow down, tracing patterns over the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb as he brought his other hand up to his mouth, pushing two of his fingers past his lips and sucking on them, moving them in and out of his mouth wantonly, his eyes never leaving Liam's face, searching for any sign that he was into this. There was only the slightest hint that he was roused by what he saw, as he abandoned his relaxed stance in favor of leaning forward, his legs spreading farther as he rested an elbow on each knee, hands clasped between them.

Zayn trailed his hand up the inside of his thigh, splaying his legs wider to give Liam a perfect view as he brought his slick fingers to his hole. He teased at his rim, moaning shamelessly as the tip of his middle finger slipped inside.

Zayn's eyes had fluttered shut, but he could feel Liam watching him, his eyes trailing from Zayn's face down his body, to where his fingers were pushing inside of him. Zayn hoped that he was imagining his dick in their place, and that he was hard and throbbing, aching to be inside of Zayn.

That thought forced the hand on Zayn's cock to move faster, his grip loosening so that he could slide it quickly up and down his length. He began to pump his fingers in and out of his hole relentlessly, ignoring the burn of the stretch as he dragged his fingertips along his walls.

"Liam, fuck...want you so bad," he moaned, giving the man what he thought he wanted. What he hoped would help push him over the edge, making him feel as good as Zayn did in that moment. More than anything he ached for Liam pull out his cock and to start jerking off in time with him, or for him to join him on the bed and bend him over and fuck him, hard. For him to do anything that would prove that he wanted Zayn. But Liam stayed where he was, shifting slightly in his seat as he raised his clasped hands to his chin, resting it on them as he narrowed his eyes.

Zayn felt his gaze linger on him like a touch, and he knew that he couldn't hold back any longer. His hand began to move impossibly fast, focusing on the top half of his cock as he pushed his fingers as far inside himself as he could, massaging his spot as stars burst behind his eyelids. 

"Liam," he moaned, angling his body a fraction to the side, letting Liam see his shiny tip as his slit quivered and he started to come, white hot flashes of pleasure rolling over him as he spurted wetly onto his abs. He came hard - harder than he ever had with a client - streaks of white pooling on his stomach as he pumped himself dry, his mouth falling open as he released a deep, throaty moan. The sound filled the room, accompanied only by his heavy breathing as he dragged his fingers lazily through the mess on his stomach, enjoying the quiet buzz in his head and the heavy weight of his muscles.

"You can go now."

The words shook Zayn out of his haze. He lifted his head to see Liam looking as calm and collected as ever, his suit still perfectly pressed as he sat with an ankle resting on his knee, staring down at his phone like he'd already forgotten Zayn was there.

Zayn stood up slowly, confusion and even a hint of hurt washing over him as he realized how thoroughly unimpressed Liam was with his performance. He dressed hurriedly then stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, unsure of what to do next. Apparently he wasn't moving fast enough for Liam, who still hadn't looked up from his phone. "The money's on the nightstand. You can let yourself out," he told Zayn, all without sparing him a glance.

Zayn grabbed the wad of cash and shoved it into his pocket, not bothering to count it as fresh embarrassment coursed through him at being dismissed so succinctly. He paused in the doorway out of habit, but after a few seconds he realized that Liam had nothing more to say to him. He left at once, shutting the door quietly behind him and wondering why he felt so shaken.

This was a good thing, he reminded himself as he walked towards the lift. He'd made a night's worth of money in less than an hour, and he hadn't even had to touch the client. Who cared if Liam hadn't been into him, or that he hadn't gotten off to him. It wasn't like his opinion mattered to Zayn one way or the other.

Except as his phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see Ana calling, he realized that his opinion did kind of matter, because the last thing he wanted was to get bitched out for not turning Liam into a regular.

"Listen, I'm not in the mood," he growled into the phone, stepping in front of the lift and stabbing at the down arrow. "I'll do better next time."

"Do better?" she asked. "You must have done something right. Liam's already requested you for tomorrow night."

 


	2. Chapter 2

                                                                                      

_Oh, glazed eyes, empty hearts_  
_Buying happy from shopping carts_  
_Nothing but time to kill_  
_Sipping life from bottles_  
_Tight skin, bodyguards_  
_Gucci down the boulevard_  
_Cocaine, dollar bills_

Zayn sighed heavily, shifting the black leather bag he was carrying into his left hand. He felt on edge, just as he had for the past twenty-four hours, his last encounter with Liam leaving him shaken in a way he wasn't used to. Knowing what Liam expected of him for tonight - the order to bring the satchel he now clutched so tightly a promise of what was to come - should have comforted him, but it only left him more unsettled. 

He'd dreamt of tattooed skin and shaved heads and rough hands, and awoken hard and alone. And now, as he neared Liam's room, he told himself that tonight would be different; that he'd do whatever it took to get to Liam this time, to break down his walls and make him want Zayn as much as Zayn wanted him.

The door was slightly ajar as he approached it, the latch wedged between it and the door frame to keep it from closing properly, but Zayn knocked anyway, his hand hitting the hard wood in short, staccato bursts that revealed his hesitation.

"Come in," came Liam's clipped response.

Zayn pushed the door open, a smile he didn't mean on his face as he walked into the room. Not that it mattered what face he was making, Liam too busy shuffling papers on a desk to bother to look up at him. The desk was in the corner of the room, facing outwards, Liam sitting behind it in yet another black suit. 

Zayn set the bag gently on the bed, then turned to face Liam, shoving his hands into his pockets as he waited for him to greet him. He didn't, and soon the silence was almost deafening, broken only by the _tap tap tap_ of Liam typing on his laptop. Zayn sat down on the bed, then stood up immediately, clearing his throat.

"Good day at work?" he tried, cringing inwardly when he heard how awkward he sounded.

"Mmmhmm," was Liam's only answer, and Zayn briefly considered bashing his own head against the wall, just to see if that would get Liam's attention. He was used to getting what he wanted, when he wanted it, his good looks and easy charm ensuring that he was always the center of attention in whatever room he was in, and being ignored so thoroughly was making him want to crawl out of his skin.

"You mind if I use the loo?" he asked finally, needing to be anywhere but stuck in a room with a client who couldn't even be bothered to look at him, let alone fuck him.

Liam waved him towards the bathroom without lifting his head, and Zayn forced himself to walk to it slowly, needing to look calm on the outside despite how twisted up being in Liam's presence was making him feel on the inside.

He took his time in the loo, hoping to make Liam feel as anxious as he did. The bathroom was as luxurious as the rest of the hotel room, and just as impersonal, no wet towel hanging over the shower or pile of discarded clothes on the floor. The only sign that someone was actually staying there came in the form of a toiletry bag sitting on the counter next to the sink. Zayn unzipped it to find a bottle of cologne lying on top. He uncapped it and brought it to his nose, breathing it in and wondering if Liam was wearing it now. It smelled of rum and reminded him of the beach, bringing back memories of the sun on his face and his feet in the sand, and he knew that it would smell even better on Liam's skin, mixed with his scent and his sweat and his come. He hoped that tonight he'd be able to get close enough to find out. 

He gripped the sides of the sink, contemplating his reflection for a moment, then pulled the silver chain he wore around his neck over his head. The pendant was shaped like a bullet, one that Zayn unscrewed quickly, tilting it over the counter and watching as the white powder spilled out, promising relief. He reached for his wallet next, tapping out a perfect line and rolling a crisp hundred pound note with practiced movements before ducking down.

He stood up straight, tilting his head back as he felt a rush of cold, his brain tingling as he inhaled deeply. He opened his eyes, trying to focus on his reflection in the mirror and-

_Yes_. There is was. That thing he'd been missing for the last 24 hours. Just like that euphoria flooded through him, blotting out the insecurities and doubts he kept hidden, making him numb to the outside world. 

He could do this. He was Zayn fucking Malik, for Christ's sake. Men and women - ones richer and older and wiser than Liam - had been falling at his feet since he was fifteen. He rolled his shoulders, wiping up the remnants on the counter with a fingertip that he rubbed across his gums, nodding to himself as he dropped his necklace back into place. 

He came out of the bathroom to find that night had fallen quickly, the only light in the room coming from a lamp on Liam's desk, casting half of his face in shadow as he finally looked up at Zayn.

Zayn granted him a small smirk as he walked straight to the wet bar, dropping two cubes of ice into a tumbler before pouring a generous shot of vodka, looking over his shoulder to watch as Liam arched an eyebrow in his direction. Zayn turned around fully, leaning back against the bar as he raised the glass to his lips, the simple movement feeling illicit somehow, as if he needed Liam's permission before actually taking a drink. He didn't wait for it though, the coke and the need to see Liam ruffled working in tandem to make him bold, and it wasn't until he'd finished it and poured himself another that he decided to make Liam one too, knowing that alcohol might help him shed whatever inhibition was keeping him from touching Zayn. Because Zayn was fucking irresistible, and he knew it. And he was about to make sure that Liam knew it too.

Liam's jaw was tight as Zayn ambled over to him. He'd taken off his jacket while Zayn was in the loo, revealing a bright white shirt and broad shoulders as he sat back in his chair and stared at Zayn. Zayn walked around the desk, coming to a stop less than a meter in front of Liam, holding the glass out to him. He made no move to take it, just looked Zayn up and down slowly, so Zayn set it on the desk in front of him, an open invitation to join in on the debauchery and get the night started.

Zayn perched on the edge of the desk, just in front of Liam, snapping his laptop shut with a firm forefinger, practically daring him to try and stop him from getting what he wanted.

"I think we can find something more fun for you to do than work, Liam," he murmured, bringing his own glass up to his lips. The liquor burned as it slid down his throat. He welcomed the bitter taste, warmth spreading out from his chest, so he took another drink, and then another, until his glass was empty, watching as something dark flashed in Liam's eyes. 

Zayn wanted more. More vodka, more coke, and most especially more of the way Liam was looking at him.

But Liam recovered almost immediately, leaning farther back in his chair and looking up at Zayn.

"What did you have in mind?" he asked calmly, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, fingers steepled in front of him. The night sky was bright in the window behind his head, the skyline twinkling, but it had nothing on the light in Liam's eyes, the look in them making Zayn simultaneously want to move closer and to run far, far away.

"Me," Zayn smirked, spreading his legs wider, his cock already straining against his jeans.

Liam looked thoroughly unimpressed with Zayn's idea, his lips drawing into a thin line as he cocked his head to the side, as though considering the offer. Zayn knew that Liam could see that his eyes were glassy, his pupils dilated, but he forced himself to return his gaze anyway, challenging him to look away first. He didn't, Zayn unable to stop himself from dropping his gaze to Liam's hands, and the fingers he'd dreamed of having inside of him, but the smile never fell from his lips, and that felt like a small victory.

Liam finally looked away from him, the corners of his lips turning up slightly as his eyes slid to the bed, the closest thing to a smile that Zayn had seen from him.

"Why don't you show me what's in the bag?" Liam said after a pause. It wasn't a suggestion, so Zayn just nodded, setting his empty glass down next to Liam's full one before walking to the bed and kicking off his shoes. He ignored the bag for now, turning to face Liam instead. He smiled cockily in the instant before he reached for the hem of his sweater, pulling it over his head with both arms and tossing it to the side. He stood there for a second, running a hand along his stomach, drawing Liam's attention to the tattoos on his hips, and the line of dark hair leading into his pants.

His jeans were slung low, showing off his v muscles, and tight and light enough that the thick outline of his cock was clearly visible through them. He'd forgone boxers for the night in anticipation of this exact moment, his fingers popping the buttons on his jeans one by one, revealing a thicker patch of hair and a hard cock. Liam didn't take his eyes off of him, watching as Zayn slowly revealed himself to him.

With the desk between them Liam seemed even further removed than he had the night before, and Zayn wished that he was more like his other clients, whose orders he wouldn't have hesitated to ignore, in favor of climbing on top of the desk and showing them how good he could be for them, up close and personal, where they could touch and join in.

Except he didn't really wish that, not at all.

He didn't know how it was possible to be so turned on by someone so closed off. Someone whose only skin he'd seen was that of his face and neck and hands. But he was. He longed to see the rest of Liam, and to touch him all over. To make him hard and watch him come.

As soon as he was undressed he reached for the bag, unzipping it and dipping his hand inside, his eyes still locked on Liam's face.

"Fuck yourself with it," Liam ordered before Zayn had even finished pulling the dildo out, his harsh tone causing Zayn's fingers to tighten around it.

"Yeah?" Zayn asked, getting the toy nice and wet as he continued to watch Liam, his movements as thorough and lingering as they would have been with a real dick, spreading the lube from the wide base to the perfectly rounded tip. "You want to see how good I can work a cock?"

Liam's only response was to reach for his drink. He brought it up to his lips and took a sip, his tongue darting out to chase the taste of the liquor, and that was all the encouragement Zayn needed to climb onto the bed, images of all of the other ways he could make Liam's lips wet causing his dick to get even harder.

The toy was bigger than what Zayn would have used had he been getting himself off alone, but he knew the thick length would look good disappearing inside of him, the black contrasting nicely with his olive skin. It had a wide base, allowing it to stand up on its own as Zayn sat up on his knees directly above it.

He licked his lips as he sunk down on it slowly, his mouth falling open at the burn of the stretch. He'd prepped himself before leaving his flat, but that didn't stop a little whimper from falling from his lips as it slid inside. He turned it into a full on moan as he rolled his hips forward, grinding down on the dildo until he'd bottomed out. As soon as he could breathe again he began to move, raising up on his knees before pushing back down, his pace slow and torturous, his soft gasps and muted moans the only sound in the hushed room.

His dick was achingly hard and sticking straight out from his body, pointing directly at Liam where he was still sat behind his desk. Zayn lifted his eyes to look at him, his cock twitching when he saw how intently he was watching him.

He dropped a hand to his dick, rolling his hips again to take in more of the toy before fucking into his fist, coating it with the lube still covering his hand, knowing how good his cock looked when it was wet and shiny. But the slick sound of his hand working his cock sounded so sinful in the quiet room, and the rough drag of his palm felt so good, that he couldn't help but do it again, and again.

"How's it feel?" Liam demanded, the rough edge to his voice giving away what his expression wasn't.

"Not as good as you would," Zayn swore to him, his words going breathy as the curved tip of the toy nudged his spot.

He moaned shamelessly as Liam reached a hand up to loosen his tie, his fingers working deftly to undo the top button of his shirt. Zayn felt his dick get harder, his head spinning at the sight of the swatch of chest hair Liam had just revealed. He began to fuck himself more firmly on the hard cock beneath him, imagining it was Liam instead, and he couldn't hold back the whimper that escaped him at the thought of Liam filling him up.

His heart started to beat a little harder as he watched Liam toss his drink back, downing it in one go before rising to his feet. He walked around the desk slowly, never taking his eyes off of Zayn as he came to stand in front of it, leaning back against the edge. Zayn moaned a little louder, releasing his cock in favor of running his hands up his chest, his fingers itching to touch skin, the hard line of Liam's body suddenly almost within reach.

"I'd ride you just like this, make you feel so fucking good," he promised as Liam began rolling his sleeves, first one then the other, revealing taut forearms covered in tattoos.

Zayn had never wanted someone so badly, his dick blurting out more precome as he began to bounce more quickly on the toy, wishing that Liam was the one driving him towards his orgasm.

Liam unclasped his watch next, laying it on the desk behind him, and Zayn thought that he was going to explode, the anticipation of Liam finally touching him almost enough to push him over the edge.

"I bet you can't wait to feel how tight I am for you, and how good I feel squeezing around you when you make me come on your cock." Zayn forced himself to slow down, not wanting the toy to make him come now that Liam was an option.

"Get on your back," Liam ordered.

Zayn obeyed immediately, falling back to lie down on the bed, the toy still shoved inside of him, his necklace pooling on the bed beside his head. Liam stalked towards the bed, his movements precise and meticulous, and Zayn forgot how to breathe as Liam reached for him, gripping him behind the knees with both hands and dragging him to the edge of the bed like he weighed nothing.

He slid a hand around to Zayn's inner thigh, forcing his legs farther apart as his other hand gripped the base of the toy. But instead of pulling it out he pushed it in, working it into Zayn's tight hole, pushing it deeper than Zayn had dared.

The only place he was touching Zayn was on his leg, his fingers gripping him harshly, nails digging into skin, but Zayn could feel him everywhere, his body on fire as Liam set up a relentless pace. Zayn looked up at him, searching for signs that he was as turned on as Zayn was as he stared down at where the toy was disappearing inside of him. Zayn looked down too, his dick leaking as he watched the muscles in Liam's forearm flex with the force of how hard he was working the toy into him. 

He had to look away, his eyes rolling back in his head as Liam angled the dildo up, hitting Zayn just right as his back arched off of the bed.

"Yeah? Right there?" Liam demanded, fucking into him harder. He was using short, fast strokes, driving the toy deeper and deeper into Zayn. "You like that?"

"Don't stop, please," Zayn begged, feeling an urgent tug for more, his orgasm so close he couldn't think straight. Liam listened, his pace quickening until the tip of the toy was practically vibrating against Zayn's spot. Zayn's mouth dropped open in a moan, his hands gripping the bedspread, wishing that instead he was grabbing a hold of Liam's shirt, so that he could pull him down on top of him, wanting him to be the only reason he was feeling so good. 

But there was no time for any of that, unyielding pressure building at the base of his spine. He reached for his cock, pumping it in time with Liam's thrusts as Liam squeezed his thigh impossibly tighter, forcing his leg to the side.

"Did I say you could touch yourself?" he asked, the question a warning that Zayn heeded immediately, dropping his hand back to the bed as Liam pulled the toy almost all the way out before slamming it back into him. His movements became even more merciless then, every thrust of the plastic cock hitting Zayn's spot head on, until Zayn was shaking below him, a light sheen of sweat coating his skin. 

"Liam," he moaned, pleading for more. Liam gave it to him, biting his lip as he twisted his wrist, causing a blinding pleasure to course through Zayn.

"Come for me," Liam ordered. Zayn's body responded without his brain telling it to, and the next thing he knew he was coming, his back arching off of the bed once more as streak after white streak landed on his stomach, coming even harder than he had the night before. 

He heard the toy hit the floor with a thud and he opened his eyes, hoping to see Liam getting ready to take its place inside of him. But he was already on the other side of the room, looking almost completely unaffected, his pink bitten lips the only clue as to what had just happened. He started to undo his tie, and once again Zayn felt a glimmer of hope, already anticipating the sting of the silk biting into his skin as Liam tied him up. But instead Liam dropped the tie to the floor, moving next to unbutton his shirt, ignoring Zayn completely as he walked into the loo and started the shower.

"Aren't you going to fuck me?" Zayn couldn't stop himself from asking as soon as he'd come back into the room.

Liam turned his head sharply towards Zayn, his eyebrows raising in surprise, like that was the last thing he planned on doing.

"No, I'm not," he said simply. "I need you here by eight tomorrow night," he added, his voice completely level.

Zayn let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, his brain struggling to catch up with the change in Liam's demeanor. "I have plans actually, sorry," he said eventually, thinking of the standing date he had with Niall.

"You're right, you do have plans. Here, with me," Liam assured him, his tone leaving no room for argument. "I've already cleared it with Ana."

Zayn felt a flash of anger burn through him as he stood up and pulled on his jeans, not bothering to button them. "So first you deny me your dick, and now you won't let me get it from anyone else either?"

Liam walked towards him slowly, crowding close but not actually touching him. "If you make me want you badly enough, I'll give it to you, so good that you won't be able to get enough." His voice was low and menacing, his words at once a promise and a threat.

Zayn went to reach for him, but before he had the chance Liam turned away from him. 

"I'm going to shower. I want you gone before I get out," he said as he tossed some cash on the bed, effectively dismissing Zayn. 

With that he was gone, the door shutting between them, and once again Zayn found himself leaving Liam's hotel room feeling confused and unwanted, the knowledge that he'd get to try again the following night the only comfort he could find as Liam's words rang in his head.

_If you make me want you badly enough, I'll give it to you, so good that you won't be able to get enough._  

Zayn planned on doing just that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Kudos and comments are always appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

                                                          

 

 

_My happy little pill_  
_Take me away_  
_Dry my eyes_  
_Bring colour to my skies_  

Thunder struck, loud and booming, startling Zayn as he ducked under the awning of Liam's hotel the following evening. He lit his cigarette, letting the smoke billow around him as the storm raged on. His stomach was in knots. He could already feel the effects of the spliff he'd smoked at his flat wearing off, the pounding rain and his anxiety washing away any semblance of a good mood.

He'd stayed in bed all day, watching with disinterest as the morning sun seeping in through his bedroom window turned dark and dreary as the rain began to fall and his stomach began to sink. He could feel himself growing more and more worked up as the hours crept by, counting down to a deadline he'd imposed on himself. Because he didn't care what it took, tonight he was going to make Liam want him.

He wanted to hear bed springs creaking underneath him, and to be pinned down by rough hands. He wanted to be split open, and to see angry red scratches marring his back. He could still feel where Liam had touched him, his skin burning as he remembered the press of his hand on his thigh. He'd searched in vain for finger-shaped bruises as soon as he'd gotten home, disappointment coursing through him when he failed to find physical proof that Liam had wanted him. 

_If you make me want you badly enough, I'll give it to you, so good that you won't be able to get enough._

The problem was, Zayn had no idea how to make that happen. None of his usual tricks were working, and honestly he'd never had to try this hard before. Normally it was enough to smile coyly and murmur a few pretty little lies while his dates lapped up everything he offered them.

But Liam...Liam was different. Zayn was used to fumbling hands and endless praise, to men on their knees for him, but Liam was the pinnacle of control. Of need contained.

A chill ran through him as he thought about the night before, and the look in Liam's eyes as he'd fucked him with the toy. He'd been so sure that Liam had wanted him in that moment, and now that he'd been proven wrong he felt more off balance than ever.

He glanced down at his watch. It was a quarter past eight, and he decided that he'd made Liam wait long enough. He dropped his fag to the ground and turned towards the doorman, nodding as he opened the door for him. He took his time making his way to Liam's room, reminding himself again and again that he was worth the wait, and that it was time that Liam realized that. Just like the night before, he found the door to Liam's room propped open, and this time Zayn didn't bother knocking, pushing the door open and walking into the room without an invitation. 

The room was dimly lit, a lamp on a nightstand by the bed providing the only illumination, and his eyes landed on Liam immediately. He was facing the window, his back to Zayn, an imposing figure back lit by the bright London lights, made hazy by the rain.

"You're late," he said without turning around. 

Zayn took a step into the room, closing the door firmly behind him. "You're lucky I'm here at all," he said casually, smiling inwardly at how cocky he sounded. 

Liam turned around slowly, and Zayn felt like the air had been knocked from his lungs. He was wearing a perfectly tailored tuxedo, the stark black somehow making his brown eyes look brighter. Brown eyes that narrowed as he started towards him, looking him up and down with disdain. Zayn looked down too, suddenly realizing how much of a mess he looked in comparison to Liam's polished exterior, his wet shirt clinging to his chest as his boots dripped onto the plush carpet beneath his feet. He pushed his damp hair off of his forehead with a shaking hand that he quickly shoved into his pocket, standing up a little straighter as Liam closed the distance between them.

"You'd do well to mind your manners," he leaned in to murmur, almost touching him but not quite. "There will be consequences if you don't." His voice was quiet but the threat wasn't, ringing loudly in Zayn's ears as trepidation welled inside him.

Zayn steeled himself against the dark look in Liam's eyes, fighting against his first instinct, which was to nod his head and tell Liam that he'd do anything he wanted him to. "What type of consequences?" he asked instead, coupled with the most innocent smile he could manage. A smile that faded as he watched Liam's expression subtly shift from anger to indifference. 

"Your tux is in there. Get changed and be quick about it. My time is valuable, and you've already wasted enough of it," he said, taking a step back and looking down to adjust his cuff links.

Zayn thought about putting up a fight, just to prove that he could, but he was eager to get out of his wet clothes and into something that would make him feel like more of Liam's equal.

The tux ended up fitting him impeccably, the soft wool of far better quality than the two that were hanging in the wardrobe back at his flat. He left the top few buttons of his dress shirt unbuttoned, his bow tie hanging undone, noting with a smile that the notched lapel of his jacket made his shoulders look broader, the button front making his waist look trim in comparison. He looked good, and he hoped that this fact wasn't lost on Liam. 

Two fat lines and one final look in the mirror and he was feeling more like himself than he had since he'd first met Liam. He headed back into the bedroom with a swagger in his step, eager to see Liam's reaction. He leaned against the door frame, crossing his ankles as he cocked his head to the side, watching as Liam gave him a once over.

"Fix your tie," he ordered, pushing his phone back into his pocket.

Zayn gave him a small shrug and an even smaller smile. "I don't know how," he lied.

Liam's jaw twitched almost imperceptibly, his gaze hardening as he came to stand in the middle of the room. "Come here," he told him, his voice low and authoritative.

Zayn pushed off of the wall and started towards him, not stopping until he was right in front of him, as close to him as he'd ever been. He dropped his head so that he could look up at him through his eyelashes, batting them as he looked at Liam's mouth, which was even nicer this close up; all soft, sinful curves, and Zayn couldn't help but think of what it would feel like on his body, or how it'd look covered in his come.

He licked his lips, biting back a smile as he caught Liam following the movement before quickly averting his gaze. He knocked Zayn's chin up with a knuckle, raising it slightly before reaching for the tie. His actions were quick and efficient, his focus entirely on the task at hand, and Zayn pouted, wanting his attention back on him.   

"We're going to dinner in the banquet hall downstairs. Colleagues of mine will be there, so I need you to be on your best behavior."

"You sure you don't want me be bad, Liam?" he asked, running a finger down the front of Liam's shirt. "I'm _very_  good at being bad."

Liam finished tying Zayn's bow tie, the black silk squeezing tight around his neck. He took a step back, his eyes and his voice both hard. "I think you're giving yourself too much credit. You are here to look pretty and nothing else. Tonight you will not speak unless spoken to, and you will not do anything to embarrass me."

Zayn's face burned at his words. He found himself nodding as he hooked a finger under the collar of his shirt, trying to loosen it, and then he was following Liam out of the room and down the hall. Liam didn't look at him during their ride in the lift, the small space filled with a silence that made Zayn's breath come quicker.

He jumped when he felt Liam's hand on his lower back, leading him towards the banquet hall at the back of the hotel. His touch was gentle, a barely there press meant solely to guide him in the right direction, but Zayn couldn't help but gasp at the contact. He'd gotten so used to the absence of Liam's touch that he now felt like he was living for these moments, one tiny touch from Liam somehow feeling more intimate that twenty minutes between the sheets would have with anyone else.

Several people called out to Liam as they stepped into a large room filled with big, round tables covered in white linen and giant centerpieces. He responded to them all politely, raising his hand in greeting as he led Zayn to a table in the center of the room, smiling bigger than Zayn had ever seen him as the six other people around it stood to greet him.

"Liam, good to see you. We were starting to think you weren't coming."

Liam laughed good naturedly. "My apologies. Time got away from us. This is Zayn," he added as an aside. 

A murmur of "It's nice to meet you, Zayn," came from around the table. Zayn smiled at each of them in turn as he shook their hands and promptly forgot their names, his mind still reeling from how good it was to hear his name pass Liam's lips for the first time ever.

"Zayn's a very promising artist," Liam told the group as he pulled Zayn's chair out before sitting down in his own.

Zayn turned his head towards Liam sharply, wondering if Ana had told him that, or if it was just another facet of the pretty picture Liam was trying to paint for his colleagues.

"What medium do you work in?" an older man with graying hair and watery blue eyes asked him.

"Paint mostly," Zayn smiled, finding himself on firm ground for the first time all evening. He opened his mouth to say more but stopped himself, the firm hand on his wrist telling him that saying anything else wouldn't be wise. Zayn stayed silent, watching with interest as Liam turned on the charm for everyone surrounding him. Everyone but Zayn, that was.

From snippets of conversation Zayn learned that Liam had been the keynote speaker at the conference that had brought them all to the hotel. Zayn's heart constricted at that bit of news, the knowledge that Liam was there for business and not pleasure once again proving to Zayn that he was only a momentary distraction for Liam, and not someone who mattered.

Two courses and several drinks later, and Zayn was more confused by Liam than ever. His demeanor was completely different with his colleagues than it was with him. He interacted with them easily and smiled readily, his mouth only settling into a frown when he looked at Zayn. It was obvious that Zayn was nothing but an accessory; an attractive, expendable thing on Liam's arm, and he'd never felt less important, or less wanted.

This Liam, the one who smiled and laughed and spoke in sentences that consisted of more than five words, this Liam who everyone at the table seemed to look up to and respect, despite the fact that he was half the age of most of their fellow diners, _this_ Liam was someone Zayn could imagine not just wanting to fuck, but wanting to get to know. It only made him want him more, seeing this new, brighter side of him, and he didn't know what to make of that. He hadn't known that his want could get any bigger, and feeling it grow made him restless with need.

He let his mind drift, needing to think of anyone that wasn't Liam. He was supposed to be spending the night with Niall, and Niall was one of his favorites, as far as clients went. Niall, who'd come in his pants the first time Zayn had kissed him, and then again when Zayn had dropped to his knees to lick him clean. Niall, who took Zayn out every Friday night as soon as his wife and kids had left to stay with her parents, wining and dining him before taking him back to his house so that Zayn could fuck him in the bed he shared with the woman he'd been married to for over a decade.

Niall almost always pulled Zayn into a loo or took him into his mouth in the back of a cab before the night was over, unable to wait until the end of the date to taste him, and as he looked over to see that Liam was still completely ignoring him, Zayn could have done with some of that enthusiasm right about now.

He tipped his champagne flute back, swallowing down the fizzy liquid greedily, searching for the buzz that he wasn't getting from Liam. He went to reach for another glass, pointedly ignoring the dangerous look Liam was shooting him, when he suddenly felt a hand on his thigh, just below where hip met leg.

There was nothing sexual about the way Liam was touching him, the tight grip on his thigh a silent warning to watch himself, but Zayn loved the way it felt. Liam's attention was finally on him, and he was going to do whatever it took to keep it there.

He fingertips closed around the stem of a fresh glass of champagne, his lip trapped between his teeth as he raised it in a mock toast to Liam. Liam's hand slid a fraction higher, to the crease of his thigh, squeezing him harder as he leaned in, close enough that no one else at the table could hear what he was saying.

"Do not test me, Zayn."

Zayn let out a breath at how good his name sounded in Liam's mouth. He spread his legs wider and took a long sip, tilting his head back to draw Liam's gaze to the column of his throat. Liam's eyes were dark when they met Zayn's, a challenge in them.

Zayn had never felt more alive. Excitement bubbled up inside him, and he knew that he needed to push Liam harder. He reached for him under the table, a hesitant hand coming to rest on his knee. Liam let go of his thigh at once, brushing Zayn's hand off of his leg in the same movement. He angled his body away from Zayn, breaking the moment as he turned his attention to the gentleman on his other side.

Zayn died a little inside. He suddenly wished for a cheap motel, with two double beds and stains in the frayed carpet and broken ice machines, the way it'd been before he'd met Ana, but instead he was stuck here, in this luxurious prison, with a man who didn't want him and- 

He cut off those thoughts, fingering his necklace through his shirt as he looked around the room for a sign for the loo. He needed a bump, or a fucking drink at the very least. A quick glance at the table told him that he'd drank the last of the champagne, so he hopped up, his chair sliding across the wood floor with a groan. Liam's head snapped towards the sound, but Zayn was already turning away. He could feel Liam's eyes on his back as strode towards the bar, and he purposefully leaned against it, angling his body so that he could see Liam out of the corner of his eye. He was still watching him, which was exactly the way Zayn wanted it.

"What can I get you?" a gravelly male voice asked. 

"Bombay Sapphire and tonic. Charge it to room 1181."

"1181...I'll have to remember that for when I get off tonight."

Zayn angled his head to the side, looking at the bartender for the first time. He had bright green eyes and long, curly brown hair, and the way he was grinning at Zayn let him know that he was looking forward to getting off in more ways than one. Zayn felt a flutter of pleasure deep in his belly. _This_  was how men were supposed to respond to him, with hopeful smiles and flirty comments and room keys pressed into the palm of his hand. 

He was handsome enough, Zayn supposed, though it was hard to think of anyone that way when Liam was in the same room. His wide smile was intriguing, though it had nothing on the tantalizing way Liam's mouth had moved when he'd ordered Zayn to mind his manners. Zayn leaned in anyway, smirking as he saw Liam turn in his chair so that he was facing him fully.

"Yeah?" he asked, sliding a hand across the bar. He ran a finger down the bartender's tie, his fingers curling around the end of it to tug him a little closer. "And what time would that be?"

The bloke put his elbows on the bar, flashing his dimples at Zayn as he moved in. Zayn gave him his most charming smile, trying to focus on what he was saying as he saw Liam rise to his feet in his peripheral vision. Zayn felt like his heart was about to beat its way out of his chest as Liam started towards them, every step he took revealing his impatience to be by Zayn's side.

"We're leaving," he said as soon as he reached him, wrapping his fingers around Zayn's elbow and immediately steering him towards the exit. His mouth was set in a hard line, his eyes dark, and Zayn felt a swoop of joy at his barely contained anger.

Zayn was desperate for more. More attention from Liam, more harsh words and firm grasps. More of anything that proved that Liam felt something - anything - for him. It made him feel reckless, the destructive power Liam held over him. Need coursed through his veins, blotting out any remaining sense of propriety, or self-dignity, as Liam shoved him roughly into the lift.

"I asked him to come join us," Zayn told him as soon as the elevator began to rise. "Figured since you won't fuck me you might want to watch him do it. Bet he won't even make you pay him."

Zayn knew that Ana would have his balls if she ever caught wind of him speaking to a client this way, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when Liam's grip was tightening on his arm, his pace quickening as he yanked Zayn down the hallway and into his room.

The hard snap of the lock clicking into place was very loud in the silent room. Zayn licked his lips as Liam finally released him, turning around to face him, every nerve in his body attuned to the rage radiating off of him. Zayn had made a few of his clients cross with him before, but it was nothing - _nothing_ \- compared to this, Liam's anger a physical presence in the room, threatening to smother them both.

Zayn held himself very still as Liam paced back and forth in front of the window, his head down as he tore off his jacket and tossed it to the side. Zayn had never seen him look so out of control. It made him shake with anticipation, wondering what would happen next as Liam undid his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt before coming to stand directly in front of Zayn, his hands balled into fists at his side.

"Strip," he ordered.

Zayn's breath hitched, his air caught in his throat. All he wanted was Liam, and he was finally going to get him. He undressed slowly, piece by piece, unwrapping himself like a present, his eyes never leaving Liam's face. Liam's eyes, though, they were everywhere, following Zayn's movements with precision, trailing over each stretch of bare skin as it was unveiled. His breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly, and Zayn didn't know if it was from anger or lust, and he didn't really give a fuck, as long as it meant that he would feel Liam's hands on him.

"Get up against the window," Liam demanded as soon as Zayn was naked. "Let everyone in London see what a slut looks like. What a dirty little whore you are, so fucking hard for me already."

And Zayn was hard, achingly so. His cock throbbed as he turned to face the window, his vision blurring as he watched the rain pouring down outside, the drops racing down the glass as he stared at his reflection making it look like tears were streaming down his face.

Liam ran a single finger down Zayn's back, tracing over the knobs of his spine and forcing him forward before stepping away, and that one touch was enough to make Zayn shiver all over.  

"Put your hands against the glass."

Zayn did as he was told, his fingers spreading wide against the window, fingertips searching for purchase. This high up, with his hands pressed flat against the glass, Zayn could feel a slight vibration from the wind outside. It traveled through him, past his palms and up his arms and down his spine, until his entire body was humming with need. Intoxicating, overwhelming need for Liam.

He rested his head against his forearm, looking down to see his dick twitch, a bead of precome bubbling out of his tip and sliding down the head of his cock before dripping onto the carpet below.  

"Look how desperate you are for me. Just how bad do you want me, Zayn?" Liam demanded.

Zayn felt feverish. He was on edge, filled with suspense over what might happen next. "Just touch me, please," he begged, no longer caring how fragile he sounded, his desperation for Liam clear.

Zayn felt Liam's hand press against the back of his neck, squeezing him there softly before his fingers began to slide around to the front of his throat. He squeezed tighter then, forcing Zayn's head up. Zayn's hands were flat against the window, his arms straight in front of him, his reflection a foot away as Liam's face came into view beside his in the glass. He looked so calm compared to Zayn, whose cheeks were flushed, his fringe falling over his forehead as he sucked in a uneven breath.

"Where do you want me to touch you, Zayn?"

Zayn thought of the places Liam had touched him before; the skin of his palm, the back of his knees, his inner thigh and chin all burning with the memory of his caress.

"You know where," he moaned, his cock throbbing at the thought of Liam's tight grip. 

"Yeah? This what you want?" Liam murmured, running the tip of his forefinger along Zayn's length, his grin cruel as he watched it arch towards the touch.

"Please," Zayn pleaded.

Liam moved his thumb to swirl around Zayn's tip, pressing into his slit, his breath hot against the side of Zayn's face as he let out a deep breath, watching as more precome blurted out. He removed his hand completely, closing it into a fist that he pressed against the head of Zayn's dick before sliding it down without warning, squeezing around Zayn's cock tightly as he began to stroke him relentlessly. 

Zayn moaned at the contact, his hips bucking into Liam's fist, which felt more like a perfect, warm hole around his cock, Liam's movements expert and demanding, promising to milk Zayn's orgasm from him all too soon.

"Don't you dare fucking come," Liam warned as Zayn's balls began to tighten, his cock impossibly hard. Zayn froze at once, holding himself as still as he could manage with the pleasure Liam was causing threatening to overwhelm him, not wanting to do anything that would make him stop. Liam had obviously been paying attention during their previous evenings together, copying Zayn's movements exactly, his thumb gliding over Zayn's tip and his wrist twisting at his base making Zayn's head spin with lust.

"I won't come, I promise. Just don't stop, please," he begged, followed by a litany of Liam's name falling from his lips like a prayer. Liam seemed to like that, stepping close enough to Zayn for him the feel the heat of his body. He longed to feel the real thing pressed against him, imagining how good Liam moving behind him and sliding inside his hot, tight hole would feel. He wanted Liam to fuck him up against the window, and for all of London to see how good he would take his cock, and how hard he'd make him come.

The thought made his whole body tingle, and he knew that he wasn't going to last long. And then he felt Liam's teeth nipping at his ear lobe, his words hot against his skin, and he was done for.

"Tell me how good it feels, Zayn. How fucking bad you want my cock."

It all felt too fucking good - better than anything had, ever - and Zayn, he wasn't going to last. He backed up, trying to pry his aching cock from Liam's tight grasp. He just wanted to be a good boy, and to make Liam happy, but he was going to come if Liam kept touching him; he couldn't hold back anymore. Liam's quick strokes and dirty words were too much for him, and he had to get away, but he couldn't, Liam's body a firm wall behind him.

Zayn gasped as he backed into him, his head spinning as he felt how hard he was - so big and hard and pressed right against him. It was too much, the solid line of Liam's length pushing against him, and he started to come, jets of white spilling from him, coating the window in front of him like streaks of paint as his orgasm was ripped from him. His whole body shook with the force of it, his mouth falling open in a loud moan as his thighs trembled and his knees gave out, Liam's strong arm moving to hold his waist the only thing keeping him standing as Liam stroked him through it.

He could feel Liam's hips pulsing against him as he came, each streak of come shooting from him causing him to move against Zayn more harshly, and it only served to prolong his orgasm, making Zayn come harder than he ever had before. He felt weak with it as he came down from his high, dropping his head back against Liam's shoulder as he tried to catch his breath.

Liam released him all too soon, spinning him around and pressing his back to the window. His face was flushed, his chest heaving, and Zayn had never wanted anyone more.

"On your knees."

Zayn dropped to them automatically, his only impulse in that moment to make Liam happy.

"Is this what you want?" he demanded, unzipping his pants and pulling his cock out.

Zayn moaned at the sight of Liam's hard cock in front of him. He reached for him before Liam could change his mind, wrapping a hand around his base as he brought his lips to his tip. He mouthed eagerly at the head of his cock, swirling his tongue around his tip before flicking it over his slit. He moaned at his first taste of Liam, the heady flavor of him so perfect as he leaked onto his tongue. And then he parted his lips farther, sucking Liam down like his life depended on it. And Liam, he tasted so fucking good, his precome making Zayn's lips bright and shiny when he pulled off enough to rub his tip against his mouth before pushing in. Zayn had wanted this since the moment he'd first laid eyes on him, and he was going to make the most of it. 

He let out a soft whimper as more precome blurted out onto his tongue, looking up to see Liam's head drop back, his mouth hanging open in pleasure. Zayn hummed around his length, taking Liam farther into his mouth as Liam let out a strangled moan. It sounded like it had been ripped from his throat, and Zayn's spent cock twitched at the sound, his blood flowing with the knowledge that he was making Liam feel good enough to force him to lose control. 

He felt Liam's hands in his hair a second later, tugging harshly on the dark strands, hard enough to make Zayn wince. Zayn looked at up him once again, never stopping the slow slide of his mouth on his cock, or the gentle drag of his palm along his length.

"Put your hands behind your back," he ordered, his voice rougher than Zayn had ever heard it.

Zayn obeyed immediately, dropping his hands and clasping them both behind his back, all without taking Liam's cock out of his mouth. He began to bob his head, taking in as much of Liam's length as he could manage, showing him what a good boy he could be as his tip hit the back of his throat. He swallowed around it, reveling in the moan it evoked from Liam, his grip tightening in Zayn's hair, his fingertips scraping against his scalp as he thrusted forward. Zayn welcomed the movement, doing his best to relax his throat even as tears pooled in his eyes.

He looked up at Liam, silently begging him for more. Liam gave it to him, fucking into his mouth like he needed this as much as Zayn did, and this, this was what Zayn had been craving. It was all he'd been able to think about, from the moment he'd met Liam; Liam, just as hard and needy and desperate as he was.

He hollowed his cheeks and swallowed again, wanting to elicit another moan from him. It worked, and he began to bob his head in unison with Liam's thrusts, his own dick getting harder and harder every time Liam hit the back of his throat, or moaned above him. He heard Liam whisper his name, again and again, so quietly that Zayn was sure he wasn't meant to hear, but that Liam just couldn't hold it in, and Zayn had never been more turned on. 

He felt Liam's cock throb in his mouth, getting even harder as Zayn dug his nails into the backs of his hands to keep himself from reaching out to touch him. This would normally be the part where he'd pull away and finish them off with his fist, knowing how good he looked with come dripping down his face, and how much most men liked to mark him, claiming him as their own. But he didn't want to pull off with Liam, and he had the feeling that Liam already knew that he was his. Liam didn't seem to want to pull away from the wet warmth of Zayn's mouth either, his fingers tightening in Zayn's hair as his hips began to stutter.

"Zayn," he cried out, his hands moving down to cup Zayn's cheeks, holding him still as his cock pulsed between his lips, filling him with come as he continued to pump shallowly in and out of his mouth, milking out every last drop that he could. Zayn swallowed it all down, his eyes rolling back in his head at how good Liam tasted. 

He sucked in a breath when Liam finally pulled out, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth as he rose to stand on shaky legs. He was still so fucking hard, but satisfaction coursed through him at having finally gotten Liam off.

"We're done here," Liam said, tucking himself back into his pants as he walked to the loo to grab Zayn's discarded clothes from earlier.

Zayn nodded, meeting him halfway to take the clothes from his outstretched hands. "What time do you want me here tomorrow?"

"I don't."

Zayn raised his eyebrows as he bent over to pull on his jeans, confused. "Huh?"

Liam narrowed his eyes slightly, and when he spoke again he did so slowly and carefully, like he wanted to be sure that Zayn understood what he was telling him. "I don't want you to come back. I'm done with you."

Zayn staggered back, once again knocked off balance by the man in front of him. As much as he hated to hear what Liam was saying, he wasn't so faded that he couldn't recognize the truth when he heard it. Liam still didn't want him, and he never would.

He wanted to beg, or to refuse to leave, but Liam didn't give him the opportunity, opening his wallet and shoving a wad of bills into his hand before ushering him to the door with a firm hand on his bare shoulder. He didn't give him the chance to plead for another night together, or to apologize for pushing him too far. He didn't even give him the chance to say goodbye before he was closing the door in his face, leaving Zayn standing alone in the hallway, more confused and broken than ever.

Zayn stood there for a moment, wondering where it had all gone wrong, before slowly turning and making his way towards the lift, every step away from Liam feeling like a punch to the gut. Liam still didn't want him, and he never would.

So why did that only make him want him more?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on [tumblr](http://cupcakes-x-cocaine.tumblr.com/) if you want to talk to me about Ziam.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a scene that could be triggering for some, so please comment or message me if you'd like more details before reading.

__

 

_My sweet little pill_  
_Tame my hunger_  
_Lie within_  
_Numb my skin_  

Zayn struck a match as soon as he stepped out of the cab, lighting the cigarette already dangling from his lips and inhaling deeply, letting the smoke mingle with the cold night air. It was just past one in the morning, few people milling about on the sidewalks that would be bustling in an hour's time, when the clubs lining the street let out. He avoided looking at those he passed, his eyes on the starless sky above him. It was black and cloudy, a perfect counterpart to his dark mood.

He slowed his pace as he neared his destination, looking down to watch as ash ate away at his fag, fire burning it down to a stub that stung his fingertips as he took one last drag before tossing it to the side. The bouncer waved him through with an easy smile, one that Zayn did his best to return, pleased that once again his face had allowed him entrance free of charge. 

He headed straight for the bar, ignoring the eyes on him in favor of lifting a hand to the bartender. "Three shots of Patrón," he told him, tapping his thumb anxiously against the edge of the metal bar as he watched him line the shot glasses up in front of him, the clear liquor soon filling each of them to the brim. The first one went down rough, but Zayn kept his face neutral as he set the glass down and immediately reached for the second. The third was smoother, his taste buds already burned away as he felt the shots settle in his stomach, warming him from the inside out. 

He noticed someone to his left moving closer and quickly paid, turning away from the bar before they could approach him. He'd intentionally waited until the club was about to close to arrive, knowing that the minutes ticking down to last call would cause the patrons' desperation to grow more forceful, allowing him a better chance of picking someone up with little to no conversation. Because the last thing Zayn was there to do was talk.

He paused at the edge of the dance floor to look for the darkest section of the club, searching for a nameless distraction that would help him escape the bleak monotony of the past week. Liam's words had been playing on a loop in his head since he'd last seen him, the echo of them keeping him up night after night, and haunting him during days made more difficult when all three of his clients cancelled on him, until the sting of rejection was all he could focus on.

_I'm done with you._

He'd tried to drown the memory of those words with drink, to make their harshness hazy with smoke and to dull their sharpness with powder, but there wasn't enough vodka, weed or coke in the world to erase them completely.

The image they painted was too vivid, revealing that Zayn was unwantable when it really mattered. He needed to forget, even if it was only for the night. To forget that Liam didn't want him, and that he never would. To forget that he was nothing to him, and that he would never have the chance to change that. He only had one thing left to try, and he wasn't sure what he'd do if it didn't work.

He forced a smile onto his face as he moved through the crowd, not stopping until he was in the center of it, surrounded on all sides by anonymous bodies promising pleasure. The temptation Zayn provided, with his black, skintight v-neck and his dark, glazed eyes, proved to be too much for the mass of men encircling him to resist. He was such a pretty package, all sharp features and loose smiles, his scars hidden away deep inside, and they welcomed him readily, making space for him before instantly crowding back into him, bodies pressing together more closely than was strictly necessary in the large room. 

There was nothing sexy about the music filling the cavernous space, the techno beat frenetic and unyielding, but there was something animalistic in the way the rhythm drove them to push against each other, a primal urge to connect that made Zayn feel feverish. He embraced it all, relaxing against the bodies around him as his brain went fuzzy, the shots finally hitting him. 

He felt like he'd been tortured again and again in the week since he'd last seen Liam, every glimpse of a shaved head seeming to mock him, his eyes falling on poor imitation after poor imitation of the man he craved, Liam's face the only one he wanted to see. But now each of the faces surrounding him was cast in shadow, letting him pretend that the hands touching him belonged to someone else. Someone with tattoo covered skin and rich brown eyes and close cropped hair. Someone who was like Liam in every way, except that now he wanted Zayn. 

Zayn let his imagination run wild, illicit images of Liam touching him, and kissing him, and fucking him flashing behind his closed eyelids. He gave himself over to the feeling, letting himself believe that the hand sliding over his stomach, and the one palming him through his jeans, belonged to Liam and Liam only, just like he'd felt he did, when Liam had cupped his cheeks and filled his mouth and moaned his name.

He knew that the intensity of his feelings wasn't proportionate to the time he'd known Liam, or even to what he knew of him. But that didn't change the fact that Liam made him feel things he never had. He couldn't seem to shake the want that had left him hollow, like Liam had opened him up and laid him bare, leaving nothing behind.

Shame swept over him as he thought of how he'd acted the last time he was with him, the knowledge that he would do the same if he were ever to see him again the only thing keeping him from looking for him. He knew that he could find him if he tried hard enough, but what was the point, when Liam had made it so clear that he wanted nothing to do with him?

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter, trying to block out the memory of Liam's expression just before he'd shut the door in Zayn's face, his handsome features stained with a look of disgust that could only have been meant for him. He reached blindly for the man closest to him, seeking salvation from his ruinous thoughts and finding it in the form of a hard body pressed to his side. Zayn turned towards him but still didn't open his eyes, not caring who he was or what he looked like as long as he could give him what he needed; a stretch of time in which he wasn't being consumed alive by thoughts of Liam.

The man played his part eagerly, wrapping his arms around Zayn's waist and sliding a leg between his thighs. Zayn tried to get lost in it, waiting for lust to strike as they began to move together, the stranger bending down to whisper all of the things he wanted to do to Zayn into the soft skin of his neck. His words should have been tempting but instead left Zayn feeling empty and indifferent, until he finally stumbled on the one topic Zayn could work up a little enthusiasm for.

"You wanna turn this party up a notch?"

That was exactly what Zayn wanted, and he didn't hesitate when the stranger leaned in to pass the perfectly rounded purple pill he'd placed on the tip of his tongue to him, opening his mouth and accepting it without question. The brief touching of their tongues felt like less than nothing to Zayn, a means to an end and nothing more. He pulled back as quickly as he could and closed his eyes once more, waiting for it to melt in his mouth and wash away his cares. He swayed from side to side, focusing on the music and the man now pressed to his back. Not the details, his hair color and height unnoticed, but the feel of him, his jeans coarse under Zayn's fingertips, his hair silky when he leaned forward, strands brushing across Zayn's cheek.

"I want you," the man murmured.

Such pretty words, the sentiment behind them all Zayn had been searching for since he'd first met Liam. He allowed them to sweep him away, nodding once before following the stranger off the dance floor, towards the far end of the club.

Zayn hadn't had sex with someone for fun in ages, though _fun_ didn't seem to be the right word for what was happening, not when the feeling of the hand creeping under his shirt made his skin crawl. He felt himself break out in a light sweat, his footsteps slowing involuntarily. This only made the stranger pull him along more forcefully, yanking on Zayn's hand and causing him to stumble forward. The man caught him and wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him to his side as he steered him towards the exit sign. 

Zayn tried to stop when he saw that he was leading him into an alley, planting his feet in the doorway. He'd made a promise to himself a long time ago that he'd never fall this far, fucking a stranger next to a dumpster, yet here he was. He felt like he was moving backwards, away from all of the good things he'd accumulated, headed back towards the confused kid on the streets he'd been. 

"Think we can find somewhere a bit nicer than this, yeah?" he said, trying to keep his voice light.

The man laughed. The sound was harsh, almost cruel. Zayn could see him more clearly now, the lights from the street at the end of alleyway making him look sinister somehow, black, wide-set eyes surrounded by a pale face. 

"This'll do," he insisted, pulling Zayn farther into the alley, the door to the club shutting behind him with a clang that seemed to echo off the damp concrete walls on either side of them. 

Zayn fell into the man's chest and immediately tried to back away, his proximity now smothering. He didn't let him, instead telling Zayn to relax as he started to unbutton his own jeans.

His words had the opposite effect on Zayn, his heartbeat kicking up a notch as he realized how much bigger the man was than him. He felt his stomach turn when the man pushed him up against the trash bin, pain shooting through him as the edge of it dug into his shoulder blades. The man's hands seemed to be everywhere, one fumbling with the button on Zayn's jeans while the other pushed under his shirt, the drag of his nails across Zayn's chest making bile rise up in the back of his throat. 

Zayn grabbed his wrists and pushed them aside as he took a deep breath, hoping to diffuse the situation before it became unmanageable. "Listen, let's go back inside, get another drink before last call."

"Whatever you say, gorgeous," he murmured coolly, closing the distance between them once more. "Just give me what I came for and I'll buy you all the drinks you want."

Zayn's eyes darted to the closed metal door to the club, probably locked from the inside, and to the street, just in time to see a car slowly roll past, no help in sight.

"I mean it, stop," he tried again, his voice firmer now as he attempted to move to the side, the dumpster at his back and man at his front making him feel claustrophobic. He didn't let him, crowding closer as he went in for the kiss. Zayn grimaced, the liquor on his breath cloying. He placed his hands on the man's chest, shoving him away as hard as he could. "Get the fuck off me, man."

The man stumbled back but recovered immediately, not giving Zayn a chance to brace for the hit that he barely saw coming, the fist connecting with his cheekbone making him cry out, searing pain bursting beneath his eye and radiating outwards. He doubled over, bringing a hand up to cover the left side of his face as he tried to get his bearings. He was pushed to the ground a second later, his palms scraping against the dirty pavement.

He felt his limbs lock up as a foot in the center of his back pressed him firmly into the ground. He hadn't been in this situation for so long, all of his clients vetted by Ana to prevent this sort of thing from happening. The weight on his back disappeared for an instant, only to be replaced by something even heavier settling onto the backs of his thighs, pinning him down. He tried to struggle out from under the hands grappling with the waistband of his jeans, fear knocking the air out of his lungs. 

A second later the weight was suddenly and gloriously removed from his body, freeing him. He heard grunts and groans as he rolled onto his back, trying to catch his breath. The sky seemed to spin above him, the X and adrenaline joining forces to fuck with his equilibrium. He turned his head to the side to see a pair of shiny black shoes walking towards him, his eyes traveling up the body of the man who'd save him, his face obscured in darkness. Rough hands wrapped around his biceps hauled him to his feet, a tight grip on his jaw turning his face towards the light, but the fingers that touched the tender flesh under his eye were gentle.

"Are you okay?" Liam asked, his voice ragged.

Zayn blinked slowly, trying to focus on him. He'd imagined this moment so many times over the past week, and now that it was here he could barely believe it. Nothing felt real, the moon shining down on them and the body lying just meters away and most especially the man in front of him all figments of his drug-fueled imagination.

"Liam?" he asked. He reached for him with both hands, needing to confirm that he was really there. Exhilaration buzzed through him as his fingers bunched up the soft cotton of his dress shirt, the sight of his handsome face when he'd least expected it making him feel drunker than the shots had.

"We need to leave, now," Liam said, pulling Zayn's hands off of him. He wrapped an arm around his waist, his hand curling around his side to steady him before walking him briskly towards a black town car parked at the end of the alley.

Zayn allowed himself to be lead away but paused before getting into the vehicle, turning towards Liam questioningly, dazed. "How are you here?"

"Get in the car, Zayn," he ordered, ignoring his question.

Zayn's first instinct, as always, was to do exactly what Liam wanted, and this time he didn't try to fight it. He climbed into the car, followed quickly by Liam, who sat opposite him, their knees almost touching as he knocked on the partition to let the driver know it was time to leave.

Liam let out a deep breath as the car started to move, then turned to Zayn. "Are you okay?" he asked again, looking like he was struggling to keep calm. "Did he...did something-"

"I'm okay," Zayn interrupted, wondering if he even knew how to tell the truth anymore. Only, as they drove farther away from the alley and the club and the week without Liam, he realized that his words didn't feel like a lie. His cheek was throbbing and his heart rate had yet to slow, but he was looking at Liam, and talking to Liam - Liam, who'd saved him - and that was all that mattered.

"Who the fuck was that?" Liam demanded through gritted teeth.

"I didn't catch his name, actually," Zayn admitted, shooting Liam a weak smirk as he pressed the pads of his fingers to the sore skin surrounding his eye. He hissed at the contact, noting that his cheek was already swelling. "I can't believe the bastard went for the face."

Liam silenced him with a withering stare. "I don't find any of this funny, Zayn, and deep down I don't think you do either."

Liam was right, nothing about what had just happened was even the littlest bit funny. But Zayn was infinitely aware that there were two ways to handle a situation that had the potential to be scarring; by facing the truth head-on, with no defenses in place; or by avoiding it completely. And if there was one thing that he was good at, it was avoiding reality. He'd honed the skill over the years, until he'd become an expert without ever meaning to do so. He planned on putting this expertise to good use now, fully intending to bury the memory of the past hour so deep that he'd never be able to recall it without it feeling like a piece of fiction, something that had happened to someone else, a friend of a friend who he'd never even met. _Poor bloke_ , he'd think. _Glad it wasn't me_.

Liam pulled his mobile out of his pocket, effectively cutting off further conversation. Zayn watched him as he began to text furiously, his fingers flying over the keys. He looked so disappointed in Zayn, his brow furrowed and his jaw twitching as he stared down at his phone, that Zayn felt an inexplicable need to apologize. He opened his mouth to do just that, but Liam stopped him before he got a word out, holding one finger up in the air between them.

"You do not get to speak right now," he said, turning to Zayn with an angry glare. His phone pinged as soon as he'd spoken and he looked down at it immediately, Zayn forgotten as he typed out a hurried reply.

The rest of the ride was silent, save for Liam's phone beeping in response to the many texts he seemed to be sending. Zayn longed to ask who he was talking to, or where they were going, a look out the window revealing they were headed into a more posh part of London, liquor stores and pawn shops making way for upscale boutiques and cafés, but he held his tongue. 

This wasn't an easy feat, especially when coupled with the X, which was making it nearly impossible for him to sit still. He wanted to touch everything, and Liam wasn't making it any easier, sitting there with his legs spread, his fitted shirt showing off his trim waist. Zayn could barely wrap his head around how good he knew it would feel to climb on top of him. He wanted to run his hands over the sharp planes of his chest, and to feel his muscles flex beneath his palms. But he settled for trailing his fingers over the supple upholstery of the car's interior, the leather soft and cool under his fingertips, and fidgeting with the controls on the console, enjoying the whirring sound the partition made as it was lowered and raised repeatedly. He thought he heard a stifled laugh from Liam when he pressed down on the button for the third time, his head following the motion as the partition began to move, but when he lifted his eyes towards him there was no trace of humor on his face, his eyebrows raised as he stared at Zayn for a beat before quickly looking back down at his phone.

Zayn kept his hands in his lap after that.

He used the time instead to study Liam. The light from his screen bathed his face in a warm glow, illuminating the soft shadows dusting the skin beneath his eyes, like he was the one who'd been suffering through sleepless night after sleepless night. He looked more untamed than he had the last time Zayn had seen him, still clean and sleek but with an air of unkemptness, his hair a fraction longer, his face unshaven around lips bitten a bright pink. He was as dressed up as ever, clearly having come straight from work, but his clothes were slightly disheveled, his navy tie loose around his collar, the sleeves of his baby blue dress shirt rolled up haphazardly.

He looked more gorgeous than ever.

Zayn's eyes trailed down to Liam's hands. His tattoos had always seemed incongruous with his finely tailored suits and classically handsome face, the juxtaposition made all the more striking now that his knuckles were scraped and bloody, red slashing across midnight black ink. Zayn closed his eyes, letting realization wash over him. Liam's hands were bruised and battered because of him. He'd seen Zayn in trouble and responded with violence. Whether it stemmed from anger or jealousy didn't matter to Zayn, because either way it meant that some part of Liam cared what happened to him.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, Zayn unsure of whether to be anxious or excited about what the rest of the night held, the tension in the car coming to a peak as they finally stopped in the underground car park of apartment complex. Liam got out without saying a word and headed towards a bank of elevators without bothering to see if Zayn was following. The ride in the lift was just as quiet as the one in the car had been, Liam staring straight ahead as they traveled the forty stories to the penthouse. Zayn's heart beat harder and harder with each passing floor, the numbers lighting up one by one above the lift doors seeming to count down to something he wasn't sure he was prepared for.

He was wide eyed when he stepped out of the lift, trying to take everything in at once. The flat was huge, but his first impression of it was that it was utilitarian, almost plain; white walls devoid of artwork surrounding steel gray furniture that was all hard lines and sharp angles. Zayn swallowed his disappointment, the hope he'd been harboring that peering into Liam's private life would reveal a secret side of him vanishing. The space felt cold. Not the temperature so much as the atmosphere, no trace of color or warmth in sight, Liam's flat as impersonal as his hotel room had been.

The only exception was the view, the back wall of the gigantic open area they were standing in made up of floor to ceiling windows that perfectly showcased the glittering heart of London. 

He didn't get a chance to look more closely, all of his attention focused on Liam and Liam alone as he turned his head to see him watching him intently. He moved to face him, the squeak of his shoe loud on the marble floors as he turned, time standing perfectly, painfully still as Liam began to close the distance between them. His movements were slow but sure as he approached Zayn, lifting a careful hand to the left side of his face once he reached him. 

Everything went quiet the instant Liam touched him, the air sucked from his lungs as the blood rushing in his veins became the only thing he could hear. His skin seemed to tingle under Liam's fingertips, his touch feather light as they slid from his cheek down to his throat. He laid his other hand on Zayn's chest, no doubt feeling the rapid pace of his pulse beneath one palm and the wild beat of his heart under the other. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper and their bodies barely a centimeter apart. Zayn swallowed before answering, waiting for the fear he'd felt in the alley to appear as Liam crowded into him. It didn't, desire his dominant emotion as he looked into Liam's eyes, his cock already starting to swell in anticipation of what might be coming next.

As soon as he nodded Liam's grip on his throat tightened, forcing Zayn's chin up as he backed him up against the wall to the side of the lift, his hand getting there first to cushion the back of Zayn's head before it met drywall. He quickly moved to grab both of Zayn's wrists, curling his fingers around them as he held them above Zayn's head, pressing them into the wall. 

In that moment Zayn's entire world was the two inch square space where Liam's fingers dug into his wrists. Nothing else existed, nothing else mattered. And then Liam was pressing up against him, blanketing his body with his own, and _everything_ mattered. He could feel Liam's heart beating against his own, and his knee nudging between his legs. Liam's breath was on his neck, making his own come quicker, and his hips were pushing into him, leaving him unable to stop himself from meeting the movement, pressing against him harder. His entire body buzzed with awareness of Liam's, and he wanted more.

Liam released his wrists but Zayn knew instinctively not to move, the backs of his hands still pressed flat to the wall as Liam slowly slid his hand down, trailing past Zayn's forearm to his bicep and over the curve of his shoulder to his chest. He shifted his body to the side to give his hand more room to roam, traveling down his side to his hip, his fingers curling around it to pull Zayn closer.

Zayn was acutely aware that Liam had never come into contact with this much of him before, his skin blazing wherever Liam's hand went, his sweater and jeans not offering any protection from the way his touch set his body on fire. He felt helpless with how much he wanted him, and he knew at once how stupid he'd been to have gone looking for something that could replace the feeling he got when he was with him. 

Nothing could replace this.

"What am I going to do with you, Zayn?" Liam murmured. His voice was low, as rough as the hand that gripped his hip."You've been such a bad boy. I leave you alone for one week and look at the trouble you get yourself into."

"I'm sorry," Zayn said quickly, licking his lips.

Liam looked unconvinced, his face hard. "You say that now, but not thirty minutes ago you wanted to get fucked so badly that you were willing to bend over for a stranger in a back alley. Isn't that right, Zayn? You wanna get fucked that badly?" 

Zayn let out a shaky breath. "Only by you."

Liam cocked his head to the side, his eyes narrowing. "I wanted to kill him when I saw him put hands on you. You think he could fuck you like I can? You think he could make you come as hard as I'm going to?"

Zayn shook his head no, his eyelids fluttering shut as a shiver ran through him. Liam's words were poetry, the promise behind them intensifying the ache of neediness consuming him.

"Tell me," Liam demanded.

"Nobody can make me come like you do, Liam," Zayn promised. "Don't want anyone but you."

Liam hummed in satisfaction at that, his gaze dropping to where his hand was still squeezing Zayn's hip. He stroked his thumb back and forth over Zayn's jeans, just under where his hard length was straining against the dark cotton, his touch at once tantalizingly close and teasingly far away.

"Yeah?" Liam said, inching his hand closer to where Zayn wanted it. "You want me to fuck you? Make you come on my cock?"

Zayn's dick throbbed at his words. "Please," he breathed, balling his hands into fists above his head as the urge to touch Liam became almost unbearable.

Liam stepped back as soon as the word was out of Zayn's mouth. Zayn slumped against the wall, dropping his hands to his sides and wondering what he'd done wrong as he looked at Liam. Liam was looking right back at him, undisguised amusement bringing the barest hint of a smile to his face as his eyes trailed up and down Zayn's body, taking in the flush creeping up his neck and and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. He looked so calm compared to Zayn, his breathing steady and his gaze intent, and his voice was cool when he spoke.

"You remember what I told you, don't you?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at him before spinning on his heel and walking into the sunken living room. He sat down on the charcoal leather sofa, his arms and legs spread as he leaned back and looked up at Zayn, who'd followed him into the room, Liam's body drawing him to him like a magnet. "If you make me want you badly enough, I'll give it to you, so good that you won't be able to get enough. So come on then. Make me want you."

Zayn forgot how to breathe as Liam's words washed over him. He was finally getting another chance to make Liam want him, and he wasn't going to waste it. He closed the distance between them in two long strides, climbing on top of him before he had the chance to change his mind. Liam felt so strong beneath him as he settled into his lap, his hands sliding up Liam's chest to his neck and then down to his shoulders feeling like an indulgence he'd never thought he'd get to experience.

He wanted to touch him everywhere, all at once, so much so that he barely knew where to begin. Straddling him like this, with so much of him touching so much of Liam, his thighs bracketing Liam's, his knees pressing into his hips, his hands braced on his shoulders, felt even more intimate to Zayn that Liam's dick between his lips had.

He moved his hands to the collar of Liam's shirt, undoing his tie and slowly sliding it from around his neck before dropping it onto the floor beside them, his eyes never leaving Liam's face as he did so. He went for his buttons next, trying to remind himself to go slow, to let anticipation build as he worked his way down, until the last one was undone and he was finally able to open his shirt. He pushed it to either side, bunching it up around Liam's shoulders in his haste to see more of him.

The first thing he noticed was the absence of tattoos, Liam's chest and abs bare save for the light smattering of hair that Zayn longed to run his hands through. So he did, starting at his stomach and working his way up, his palms pressing in as his fingers chased the flush that tinted Liam's tan skin, his chest and neck pinker than any other part of him, apart from his lips, which had parted slightly the moment Zayn had straddled him, his breath coming a little harder each time Zayn touched him somewhere new.

Zayn cradled Liam's face with one hand, his other sliding back down to his chest, his thumb grazing his nipple again and again, until he felt it perk up, a hard bud forming under his fingertip. He tilted his head to the side, his heart hammering in his chest as he parted his own lips and leaned in, eliminating the space between them inch by agonizing inch.

Liam turned his head at the last second, but Zayn was unfazed, moving his mouth instead to his neck, his lips pressing against the spot just under his ear. He opened his mouth further, allowing his tongue to slip out, chasing the taste of his skin. He smelled so good, like the cologne Zayn had smelled in his hotel room but better, now that it was mixed with sweat and sin. 

Zayn slid a hand around to the back of Liam's head, the short strands feeling softer than he'd ever imagined as he tugged on them lightly, getting Liam to tilt his head back. The movement exposed the column of his throat, giving Zayn more skin to kiss. He took full advantage, kissing and licking and biting from one side of Liam's neck to the other, pausing only to mouth at the birthmark just under his Adam's apple, the heart-shaped flaw only adding to his appeal. He let his tongue linger over it before closing his lips around it and sucking, hard.

Liam gripped the top of Zayn's hair, yanking his head back. "No marks," he growled.

Zayn noted that Liam's voice was even deeper than normal and smirked, holding his hands up in surrender before leaning back farther. He dropped his hands to the hem of his sweater and slowly dragged it up his body and over his head, tossing it to the side as he watched Liam's gaze drop to his chest and then down to his hips, sweeping over the tattoos peeking out of the waistband of his jeans. Zayn unbuttoned them with one hand, his other still pressed against Liam's chest, quite liking the way his heart seemed to beat a little harder as he began to pull his zipper down little by little.

He bit his lip as he saw Liam's eyes follow the movement, and he had to force himself not to take his jeans all the way off just yet, wanting to get him more worked up before he did so. He settled for pushing them down a few inches, giving Liam something to focus on other than his tattoos, his hard cock now on display, covered only by his boxer briefs. They were light gray and skintight, a darker spot already forming just under the white waistband.

He could feel his cock pulsing out more precome and he hooked his thumb into his boxers, unable to resist showing Liam how much he wanted him. He tugged them down, just enough for the head of his cock to pop out, the tight elastic holding it against his heart tattoo. It was swollen and shiny, a pearl of precome sticky against his thumb as he swirled it around his tip. He watched Liam lick his lips before dragging his eyes up to Zayn's face just in time to see him wet his own.

Zayn could feel himself getting worked up into a frenzy just from the way Liam was looking at him, his eyes dark as they moved across his body, and he wanted Liam to feel the same way. He could see his ironclad control start to slip as he struggled not to touch him, his fingers digging into the leather lining the back of the couch so hard that his nail beds had gone white. He knew he needed to push him just a little bit harder, so he grabbed his hand and brought it to where he wanted it most.

"You see what you do to me?" he asked, groaning a little as Liam's fingers squeezed around his length. Zayn couldn't help but start to roll his hips, his mouth opening in a moan when Liam opened his fist slightly to accommodate his movement, allowing Zayn to fuck into his fist. "I've never wanted anyone as badly as I want you," he told him, bending forwards to take his earlobe between his teeth as he continued to rock against his hand.

He felt a rush of adrenaline better than any drug shoot through him as Liam finally began to thicken below him, his cock plumping up under the steady motion of his hips. Every light in London could have gone out at that moment, and Zayn wouldn't have noticed. Fuck, a bomb could have dropped right outside the window and he wouldn't have cared, as long as he never had to stop feeling the fat length of Liam's cock pressing into him as he rolled his hips, again and again, until Liam was just as hard as he was.

Liam tugged on Zayn's cock a little harder and Zayn quickly pushed his boxers down farther, needing to feel skin on skin. Liam's other hand went to Zayn's waist, pulling him fractionally closer as he began to roll his own hips up, grinding against Zayn. Liam felt so good underneath him but it wasn't enough, so he scooted back, satisfaction shooting through him when Liam refused to let him go, stretching his arm out so he could continue to stroke him as Zayn undid his trousers as quickly as he could, need overtaking the desire to make Liam beg for it.

He climbed off of Liam's lap, pushing his pants to the floor and stepping out of them as he watched Liam do the same. Liam sat up straight so that he could pull his shirt off then leaned back again, his cock arching up against his stomach as he looked at Zayn. Zayn's back was to the window, the bright lights of the city providing the room's only illumination, but Zayn couldn't have cared less, the only view he ever wanted to see the one right in front of him. Liam was all hard muscles and soft skin, and he had never wanted anyone more.

He moved to climb back on top of him but Liam didn't let him, shaking his head as he gripped the base of his cock and said the two words guaranteed to make Zayn drop to his knees.

"Kiss it."  

Zayn didn't hesitate to do just that, kneeling between Liam's legs and bending forward, his hands braced on Liam's thighs. He started at the base, replacing Liam's hand with his own as worked his way up, licking over the ridges of his cock as he moved to his tip. He looked up at Liam as he kissed it, letting his tongue swirl around him before taking him into his mouth and sucking hard, needing to feel him pulse against his tongue. Liam moaned, the sound urging Zayn to slide farther down on his length, not stopping until he felt him hit the back of his throat. Liam groaned above him, his hips lifting minutely, fucking his dick into Zayn's mouth.

Zayn pulled off to suck in a breath, his hand continuing to work Liam's cock as he licked over the curve of his hip, his tongue seeking out any skin it could find, traveling from thick thighs to taut abs, his own cock quivering with need as he finally got to kiss the parts of Liam that felt like they'd been forbidden to him for forever. He moved his mouth back to Liam's length, coaxing a honey thick drop of precome out of his slit before sitting back, savoring the taste of him on his tongue.

Liam's eyes were blown black when Zayn looked up at him, one hand trailing through the dark patch of hair surrounding his cock as he lifted the other in the air between them, crooking a finger to let Zayn know he wanted him closer. 

As soon as Zayn had climbed on top of him again Liam spoke. "Get yourself ready for me," he ordered, his tone harsh but the meaning behind his words everything Zayn wanted to hear. He went to move off of him but Liam didn't let him, strong hands coming to rest on his thighs holding him in place. Zayn raised his eyebrows as he lifted a hand to his mouth, sliding two fingers between his lips. He licked around them, making a show of it as he coated them in saliva.

As soon as they were wet he raised himself up on his knees, Liam's hands sliding up to his waist to steady him as he twisted his body, reaching an arm behind him so that he could tease his finger over his rim. He sunk down on it easily and quickly added a second finger, the slight sting only making his dick harder. 

"Feel good?" Liam asked, watching as more precome pulsed out of Zayn's slit.

"Not as good as you will," Zayn swore, his voice cracking as he pressed in farther, not stopping until the rings lining his fingers were flush with his body, the tip of his middle finger just able to brush against his spot.

Liam's hand moved to his own cock, like the sight of Zayn riding his fingers was so hot that he had to touch himself. "You almost ready for me?" he asked, stroking his length slowly, his eyes never leaving where Zayn's fingers were moving in and out of his body.

Zayn began to bounce more quickly, scissoring his fingers as he stared down at Liam's thick length. "Should be," he told him. "Fucked myself with that toy earlier, pretendin' it was you."

That was all Liam needed to hear. The next thing Zayn knew he was bent over the back of the sofa, watching as Liam rummaged in his jeans, his mouth settling into a frown as he pulled out a condom and small bottle of lube. Zayn hated to see that look on his face so he quickly moved to his side, taking the condom from him. He tore it open with his teeth and rolled it onto him with expert fingers, lube joining it a second later. He coated him from base to tip, his fingers lingering over his length as he pumped him once, twice, three times, ensuring that he was as hard as he could possibly be. 

He knelt on the couch in front of Liam and bent forward, bracing himself on the back of it, his hands gripping the leather as tightly as he could as he felt Liam line himself up, waiting for the pain that he knew would soon give way to pleasure. But instead of the sharp stretch of Liam pushing inside he felt Liam's hand trailing back and forth between his shoulders, his touch gentler than it ever had been before.

He turned his head to the side and Liam immediately moved his hands to his hips when he saw him looking at him. "How bad do you want me?" he demanded, his voice and his touch both back to the roughness that Zayn had grown accustomed to.

Zayn could only tell him the truth, any pretense of playing hard to get long forgotten. "So fucking bad. More than anything."

"Come and get it then," Liam ordered. He lined himself up behind Zayn once again but made no move to slide inside him, instead teasing his entrance with the tip of his cock, his fingers digging into Zayn's side letting him know what he wanted. Zayn gave it to him, pushing back against him, a whimper escaping him as Liam began to split him open. Liam groaned above him and that was all the encouragement Zayn needed to ignore the pain, rocking forward just to press back again, taking more and more of Liam's length each time, until he finally bottomed out.

Liam didn't give him a second to adjust, stilling Zayn's hips with a strong grip as he started to pound into him, pulling out to his tip before slamming back into him. Zayn's mouth dropped open as pleasure flooded through him, every inch of the thick cock fucking into him driving him closer the edge. Everything felt so fucking good, not just Liam's cock dragging against his walls and pounding into his spot, but the fingers digging into his hips, and the leather scraping against his knees every time Liam surged into him.

He knew that part of why pure, unadulterated pleasure was threatening to overwhelm each of his senses could be because of the drugs, but he was more convinced that most of it was because of the man, Liam the only reason he felt this close to heaven.

Liam pulled out of him without warning, and Zayn found himself on his back an instant later, Liam standing over him, his broad shoulders blocking out the light from the window. He hooked two fingers around Zayn's ankle, his thumb and middle finger meeting around the narrowest point of him as he slowly spread his legs. The way he was looking down at him was indecent, his eyes trailing hungrily over every inch his naked body. And Zayn, he was so hard for Liam, his cock red and wet as he arched his back and dropped his knees to either side, letting Liam see more of him.

Liam reached for his other leg, pulling Zayn towards him until he was propped up on the arm of the sofa. Zayn put his hands on the couch behind him, angling his body up as Liam stepped between his thighs, lining himself up and pushing in in one smooth motion that made Zayn's head spin.

Liam's hands gripped the backs of Zayn's thighs as he hitched them higher on his hips, Zayn's legs wrapping eagerly around his back, urging him closer. Zayn's eyes rolled to the back of his head as the new angle allowed Liam to hit his spot head on. "Feels so fucking good," he moaned, his biceps flexing and abs rippling as he did his best to rock against him, his entire body dedicated to the pursuit of pleasure.

"Yeah?" Liam urged, fucking into him harder. "How good?"

"Better than anyone else, ever," Zayn promised, his cock throbbing each time Liam fucked into him. He knew there was no way to get a hand around himself in this position, but there was no need either, his spine already tingling as he felt his muscles tighten, his balls drawing closer to his body as he began to tremble with the need to come.

"Good. I spoke to Ana," Liam grunted, drawing Zayn's attention back to him as he tried to make sense of his words. He wasn't looking at him, his eyes locked on where he was moving in and out of Zayn as he began to speak again, the words tumbling out of them like he couldn't hold them in anymore. "You are mine for the next month. For the next thirty days no one gets to do this but me. Do you hear me? You are all mine. Say it."

Liam fucked him harder and harder with every word, his thrusts reaching a fever pitch as Zayn moaned out a wrecked, "I'm all yours. Only yours, Liam."

"All mine," Liam repeated fervently, his hips stuttering.

That was all it took for Zayn to come undone, his arms giving out as he started to spill, free falling into ecstasy as he came untouched, his cock shooting streak after streak of come onto his chest and abs. Liam fucked him through it, prolonging Zayn's pleasure as Zayn clenched around him, calling out his name over and over, until all the air was gone from his lungs and he was forced to suck in a deep breath.

Liam pulled out of him as soon as he finished coming and tore the condom off, dropping it to the floor with careless fingers as he knelt over Zayn and took himself in hand. He jerked himself off with practiced movements, his hand a blur on his cock as he stared down at Zayn. Zayn pushed himself up on shaky arms, moving his face in front of Liam's length and looking up at him with wide brown eyes, licking his lips in anticipation. 

Liam gave him what he wanted, angling his tip towards him as he started to come, jets of white splashing onto his lips and sliding down his chin. Liam pushed a hand into Zayn's hair, tugging on it until his mouth opened wide enough for him to force his cock between his lips. Zayn licked him clean, loving the taste of him as he continued to spill, the come sliding down his throat making him hungry for more. 

His limbs felt heavy with the weight of his euphoria at finally having gotten everything he wanted when Liam finally released him so that he could sink back against the couch. But it couldn't last, of course it couldn't, Liam already rising to his feet, distancing himself as he reached for his trousers and pulled them on without bothering with his boxers. He didn't look at Zayn for several minutes as he paced the room, running a hand over his short hair as he walked back and forth. 

Zayn leaned back on his elbows, watching him intently and wondering how long he had before Liam forced him to leave. He was just about to ask him, unable to keep his mouth closed any longer as a palpable tension began to build between them, when Liam finally turned to face him. His expression was unreadable, but his voice was hard when he spoke. 

"You still have no idea who I am, do you?"  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the long wait and I hope you liked the chapter :-)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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